


slow dancing with the devil

by venomondenim



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Phone Sex, Valentine's Day, Violence, discussion of religion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomondenim/pseuds/venomondenim
Summary: Peter was 23 years old when he decided to give up on dating entirely.Then he had to go and meet Matt.
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Peter Parker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	slow dancing with the devil

❤️️ 

Peter was 23 years old when he decided to give up on dating entirely. 

At the ripe age of 23 he had already acquired six exes. Not all of them had been messy, but at least half of them were. And Peter had seen _Scott Pilgrim_ , alright? He knew the consequences of unleashing seven deadly exes out onto the world. 

Although, he doubted MJ would ever join them, she enjoyed menacing Peter a little too much on her own, and wouldn’t want to give up her well-earned desk at the Bugle. He was pretty sure that Ned wouldn’t join either, considering Ned hated that Peter even referred to him as an ex in a joking way on occasion. He would insist that a two week relationship in eighth grade most definitely didn’t count. Peter disagreed. 

Peter’s last breakup though, had been a real ringer. He cared deeply about Wade, a part of him probably would always want to remain friends, but it was honestly better for both of them to separate. New York really wasn’t big enough for the both of them. 

It was after Wade and his big blowout breakup that he came to the decision that he was going to leave the dating pool for a while. Or better yet, he was going to swear off boys entirely. Because boys were heartbreakers, and only ever seemed to waste Peter’s time. 

Then he had to go and meet Matt.

Technically, if you wanted to be a nit-picker, he met Daredevil first. But the guy barely said a few words to Peter whenever they crossed paths, and Peter had decided pretty quickly that he was going to stay out of his way as best as he could. He barely interacted with him, but from his limited meetings he never got the best impression of him. The stories he heard were a mixed-bag anyways. He heard a few about him saving people, rescuing girls from being trafficked, bringing kids back to their parents in the dead of night like some sort of ninja pirate. 

But then there were other stories, gorey stories that made Peter’s guts churn at the violence, and pure rage behind the actions. He didn’t know what to believe. He knew though, what it felt like to be on the wrong end of certain rumors, so he considered his best option was to stay clear. 

Daredevil had a territory that he seemed to stick to diligently; never leaving Hell’s Kitchen. Peter could work with that, he had his own territory after all, too. As long as they stayed on their sides it didn’t matter what his methods were, and Peter would get involved if he had to if there ever was any concrete proof the guy was doing wrong. In the meantime, Peter didn’t really want to mess with him much, so he kept his head low, and only helped if the situation became unescapable, and the Devil wasn’t anywhere around. 

Daredevil didn’t preoccupy too many of his thoughts in the beginning. He was admittedly too busy with work. He had hastily switched his major entirely right before his last year of college to Journalism, and turned down the internship opportunity that Tony had extended towards him. He wanted to start his own path, and quit following what others had laid out for him. 

It all started after Harry had brought him and MJ evidence of Oscorp misappropriating funds and hiding research from their government sponsors. MJ and him had uncovered all sorts of corrupt employees, and had helped their company do an entire flip after they published their findings with the Bugle. The article is what got MJ a job, and had Peter understanding what he really wanted to do, and it didn’t involve being in a lab anymore. He wanted to investigate, and work on getting the truth out there. Especially after he saw how easy it was to twist and manipulate when things got into the hands of the wrong people. 

Switching his major caused him to fall behind his classmates, but it was fine, Peter was smart anyways, and determined. He eventually graduated, and started passing around his work as a freelance photographer to get his foot in the door. Tony gave him shit for it, and didn’t really seem to get it. Nobody seemed to really get it, except May, who tearfully reminded him that it was a Parker boy trait, to always look out for the little guys, and speak the loudest for them. 

In a low moment of desperation after he couldn’t get any of his photos to sell, he had offered a few good shots of Spider-Man. The shots immediately got him through the door, only with the promise that he could deliver more whenever they asked. It sucked at first, and Peter had a lot of moments drinking with MJ on his and Ned’s fire escape wondering if it was all worth it. MJ would just call him dumb and tell him to drink more tequila until he stopped being as dramatic. She was his favorite person, sometimes. 

The soulless pictures of Spider-Man eventually allowed him to start publishing his other photos, and eventually nabbing a bi-line or two on a few articles. They even trusted him to write a piece about Stark Industries that had people whispering around the office for a few days. He still didn’t have a desk, but he was starting to feel like he belonged, like things were all connecting. 

_And then he met Matt._

It was on Valentine’s day, how ironic was that? Or maybe it was the universe’s way of getting a good chuckle. Peter liked to think that they constantly made jokes on his behalf. That year Peter was still of the opinion that Valentine’s day was the most annoying day of the year. He was stuck at the office, which he was glad for because that meant he wouldn’t have to spend the day lonely, or (embarrassingly) scouring tinder for maybe a hookup, or possibly a date. Even though he sternly reminded himself, he had sworn off love, and dating, and _boys_. 

He was so caught up in his internal fuming over how stupid Valentine’s day really was, like objectively, that he wasn’t watching where he was going and accidentally slammed right in someone’s torso, someone’s very hard and toned, torso. Peter stumbled, and nearly spilled the coffee he was holding, but righted it at the last second so it didn’t spill on the floor, or worse, the stranger in front of him, his spidey powers were kind of awesome sometimes, okay? 

He used his focus on not spilling the coffee, or the file of papers tucked under his arm for unthinkably saying next, “Sorry, I can be so blind sometimes.” He looked up then, and realized with pure, unabridged horror that the guy in front of him that he just body slammed, was brandishing a cane, and glasses, meaning the guy was _actually_ blind. Peter was sure all the color drained completely from his body as he croaked. “Oh my god, I am _so sorry_.” 

The guy next to them was in a suit, they were _both_ in suits, he noted, and he was bent over in laughter. Peter flushed with embarrassment as he stuttered out another ‘sorry’. Then his heart lurched, and started beating twice as fast when he saw the smile that lit up the blind guy’s face. He looked so boyish, and startlingly handsome that Peter swooned on his feet a little.

“It’s okay,” the guy said, and wow, his voice was deep, and calm, like a low timber. “I know how it feels to not be able to see in front of you.” That was all it took to ease the tension, causing Peter to laugh too. 

“I am really sorry though, for running into you at least,” Peter insisted, blushing, and that was where the other guy in the suit cut in.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see him put in his place.”

The handsome man scoffed, and Peter found the expression almost as attractive as the smile. Then the blonde man stepped forward, and extended his hand. “I’m Foggy Nelson, nice to meet you.” 

Peter gave him his best smile, and said, “I’m Peter Parker, nice to meet you Mr. Nelson.” 

He flitted his gaze over to the man with red glasses. He extended his hand out as well. As soon as they touched, he smiled almost like he could feel the way Peter’s heart stuttered at the contact. He hoped not. He doubted it. “I’m Matt, Matt Murdock,” he said in that same deep timber, and every coherent thought went out of Peter’s head. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” He asserted, tilting his head. “Foggy; wish it was under better circumstances,” He said, but his tone was bright, and he followed it by bouncing a little on his toes.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Matt said. 

Peter then zoned back in to the fact that they were in the middle of the office, and he was carrying a bunch of files, which should have been on Jameson’s desk five minutes ago. _Fuck_. “I’m sorry, it was really nice meeting you guys but uh, if I don’t go right now my boss is going to kill me. Have fun with whatever you’re here for, I guess.” He finished awkwardly, and dashed off. 

It was only because of his super-hearing that he heard Foggy say as the pair got into the elevator: “He was cute. How did you know? How do you always _know_?”

❤️️ 

He didn’t go out looking for a sad tinder date that night, and he could barely keep the grin off his face the entire rest of the day, trying to ignore his feelings of giddiness. 

He ended up running into Matt again, this time thankfully was not literally, as he caught him on the way out of an office. He stopped a few feet over from where Peter was occupying MJ’s desk. When Matt fiddled with something in his bag he decided to take his chance. “Hi,” he said, getting Matt’s attention. “I was gonna say something cute like, funny meeting you here again, but I didn’t want to startle you.” 

“Peter,” Matt said immediately, and this time his smile wasn’t boyish, it was dashing. Peter kind of wanted to die, at least a little bit. Matt must have somehow caught his surprise because he said, “I recognized your voice.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered.” Peter drawled, but it didn’t matter, he was sure Matt could hear the smile on his face. 

“Do you work here?” Matt asked, letting his cane rest at his side, his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“Sometimes,” Peter said cryptically, but followed it with. “I’m a freelance photographer, so I only really eat when I get a good pic, I’ve written a few articles too, but nothing major.” He babbled.

Matt raised an eyebrow. “So whose desk are you sitting at?”

Peter was impressed that he could tell that, but he could guess that Matt was incredibly perceptive, for someone who was blind anyway. His face turned red. “My friend, MJ. She’s the real journalist. Desk and everything.” He paused. “Do _you_ work here?”

“No,” he said, then chuckled. “I’m a lawyer, actually. Our client is suing the Bugle.” 

Peter grinned, low and sly. “Good,” he said emphatically. “We’re all hacks, tell them I wish them luck.”

“I appreciate that. I read your articles by the way.”

Peter could barely contain his astonishment. “Really? They’re mostly dumb fluff stuff, they’re not really good.” 

Matt smiled softly, “I liked the one about Stark Industries, you weren’t afraid to go hard on them.” 

Peter shrugged. He remembered the article he was talking about. He had told Tony about it before it was published, and Tony had given him a good jest about it, insisting that he could write whatever he wanted about them, as long as he was still available to babysit Morgan that weekend. “I try to write the truth, when I can.”

He must have said something right because he got another one of those smiles. God. Wasn’t he supposed to have sworn off boys? This was the beginning of the end for him, huh? He was glad that Matt couldn’t see him at least, fumbling like an idiot. 

“I hope to see you around, Peter.” Matt said, and Peter’s heart flipped because it sounded like a promise.

❤️️

For the next two months, Peter ran into Matt nearly every two weeks like clockwork. It took until the end of those three months for Peter’s resolve to break. Their weird flirting game was beginning to drive him crazy. He couldn’t figure out if Matt was interested in him too, or if he was just being kind, or if he was playing along as some sort of joke. Peter’s head was spinning, and he couldn’t seem to get him out of his head, even when he was on patrol. 

All he knew was that the deep timber of his voice always made something unfurl in the bottom of his stomach, like his axis was being stilted. Matt’s words were always controlled, and was careful to never raise over a certain octave. It drove Peter crazy, especially at night when he was exhausted and crept his hand down his pants thinking of Matt’s voice, and all of the things he wanted to hear him say in that same tone. 

Something in him sort of snapped when he almost got knocked out by a shocker blast that he could have easily dodged by miles because he was too busy thinking about Matt’s stupid-sexy grin, that he couldn’t get enough of. He came to the conclusion right then and there that he was going to bite the bullet and ask him out the next time he saw him. He needed to sort things out because it was starting to affect his work. 

Every relationship he’d had with a boy so far had been kind of a shit-show, but fuck it, he wasn’t a coward. And he was sick of jacking off to the thought of Matt, and not doing anything about it. Plus, if it went sideways it would be relatively easy to never see him again. He was just a handsome lawyer that he could totally hide from if he ever saw him walking the halls of the Bugle again. 

Of course, as soon as Peter made his decision with finality the universe seemed to laugh in his face for ever having the gall to assume that he ran the show. He didn’t see Matt for longer than two weeks after that. After a month, he wondered glumly if he was ever going to see him again, or if he had missed his window a crack too late. 

At least it seemed the city seemed to be on the same page as Peter, everything going to hell in a handbasket as soon as Matt was absent. It was a blessing, he supposed in a way. Matt wasn’t there to distract him now, as he had to make his way into the outskirts of Hell’s Kitchen now, on more nights than he liked to admit. He was careful not to be in the same place as the Devil at any given time, because he didn’t want to send the wrong message. He just wanted to help whenever he could, Queens seemed positively quiet in comparison. 

Peter was doing a spectacular job of avoiding Daredevil, he thought with pride. He had avoided him completely, that was, up until he found him nearly bleeding out in a dumpster behind an abandoned warehouse that Peter had webbed some goons too. They all had big guns, and Peter couldn’t understand much of what was going on because they were speaking Russian, and he had taken Spanish as his elective in college.

“Please don’t be dead,” Peter whispered a little queasily to himself as he pulled Daredevil out of the dumpster and felt around for injuries. He wasn’t sure about bones being broken (he was sure a rib or two had to be cracked though, they always were), but he knew there were multiple stab wounds bleeding sluggishly. Peter breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse, albeit slow, against the man’s neck. 

Peter debated his options, before he slung Daredevil over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and joked darkly with the unconscious man. “Gee, your place or mine? Mine? Sounds great.” 

❤️️

Once Peter got him and Daredevil back to his apartment, he made quick work. He was so grateful that Ned was spending the weekend with Betty so he didn’t have to deal with him and his questions. He adored Ned, he just didn’t want to have to explain why he was dragging a half-dead man into their apartment, when he didn’t really have any answers to it himself. 

He laid Daredevil out onto his couch, and hurriedly changed out of his suit. He kept his mask on, but changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, something he wouldn’t be mad if he got blood on. He fished out his medic-bag with first aid supplies, grabbed some towels from the bathroom, as well as a bowl of warm water and got to work. 

He painstakingly peeled away the top half of Daredevil’s costume, allowing his pants to stay on for the meantime. He was pretty sure his back and torso had taken the brunt of the injuries anyway, and felt for any broken bones, or things out of place along his legs before he continued. 

He assessed the different stab wounds, and blotted at them with the towel and water first to see how wide and deep they were. He threw the mostly dirty towel aside, and snapped on gloves as he wiped the areas away with a few alcohol soaked pads. He was glad the man remained unconscious because he knew what he was doing would sting like a bitch if he was awake. He was impressed, and very much relieved that the man stayed unconscious the entire time he stitched up each wound. He was glad Natasha had taught him how to suture during her training with him, so his stitches were neat and precise. 

He nabbed an oversized hoodie from his closet, one that had most likely been Ned’s at some point, and wrapped Daredevil in it, so he could keep his modesty whenever he woke up. After another hour of him unconscious Peter nervously checked all around his head to make sure he didn’t have a head wound that was causing him any brain damage. He couldn’t feel anything, but if Daredevil didn’t wake up in the next few hours he was going to call someone. 

Luckily before he got the chance, Daredevil woke up with a groan, and a painful arch of his back. As soon as he processed that he was in an unknown location, he made like he was going to get up and bolt. Peter wasn’t going to have any of that. 

He cheated a little bit, using his super-strength, but he was able to straddle him and immediately pin him down so he couldn’t move. 

“Stop moving!” Peter hissed. “You’re gonna rip your stitches, and I am not doing them again!” Peter really thought he was going to struggle more, but he froze as soon as he heard Peter’s voice. “Good,” Peter said, then came back to himself as he realized he was _straddling_ the guy. He sighed. “You’re lucky, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man happened to be in your neighborhood.”

“Spider-Man?” Daredevil choked out, his voice gruff, like it was a question.

“Duh, don’t act so surprised. I’ve secretly saved your ass a couple times. Hell’s Kitchen just seemed like your territory, and I didn’t want to impose.” He got off of him a little sheepishly, but it wasn’t like Daredevil could see him. He wondered how he could see anything with his mask on, he’d never seen one that completely covered their eyes, leaving just the bottom of his mouth and chin exposed. It was a nice chin. Maybe it worked for him. Maybe he was covering a horrible scar or something, Peter wasn’t one to judge. 

“You’re Spider-Man?” Daredevil asked, and Peter wanted to roll his eyes.

He pouted. “I’ll be really sad if you say you’ve never heard of me.” 

“I’ve heard of you.” Daredevil said, and that made Peter smile as he settled into the love seat adjacent from the couch so he could watch him. 

“But seriously, don’t move. About half of your skin is in stitches right now and you’ll bust them if you try to go anywhere. I can’t tell if you have any broken bones or internal bleeding. 

Daredevil took a deep breath, and seemed assessing, then he said. “Two hairline fractures in my lower right ribs, but that’s it.” 

“Oh cool.” Peter said like that was completely normal. “I guess you have X-Ray powers too.” 

“You could say that.” Daredevil said, and something about the tone of his voice caused Peter to freeze, every hair on the back of his neck and arms standing up. Suddenly he knew that voice. It was the voice he’d been obsessing over for weeks. 

He whipped around, abruptly feeling sick, and made his way back over to the couch. Daredevil was ungodly still as Peter roamed over him, and only the lamp in the corner illuminated him. Peter watched his neck, jaw, then chin, and every piece of skin that was exposed by the mask. The mask that completely covered his eyes, with no eye holes that he could see. 

Peter kneeled down, when he went to reach for the mask, Daredevil grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Peter pulled back then, releasing Daredevil’s grip. He had already seen all he needed to see. He didn’t need to take off the rest of the mask to know who was behind it. 

“Did you know?” He couldn’t help but ask, his head spinning. Had he somehow figured it out? Had he been following him?

“No.” Matt replied immediately. “I recognized your voice just now. But I didn’t know before.” 

“Great,” Peter said dryly, pulling back even more, and then getting up so he could go to the kitchen. He needed a fucking beer if he was going to deal with this. Jesus Christ, he really needed to swear off boys, for his sanity. “Well I guess what they say is true, small city, and all that.” He glared at his fridge bitterly. Why did the universe have to hate him?

He popped open the top of the beer bottle and took a long drink. God, he hated beer. “Wanna tell me why you were bleeding out in a dumpster?” 

“The Russians,” Matt growled, but his voice sounded strained. Peter figured maybe they should move onto a lighter subject. 

“Okay. Tell me this, are you really a lawyer?” 

“Are you really a photographer?” Matt shot back.

“Touché,” Peter said, before he took another sip of his beer, then threw it straight into the trash. 

“Yes.” Matt answered after a minute. “I was never-” he paused. “I never faked it with you. Any of it.” 

Peter’s heart flipped in his chest. Did that mean..? 

Matt’s voice was steady when he said “Nobody knows about who I am. What I do.” 

Peter could understand. He remembered the early days of Spider-Man, before Ned and May knew, before Tony, when it had just been him out alone on the streets. He knew what it was like to have a sense of responsibility to the city they called home. His heart clenched painfully at the reminder of how lonely it had been. 

“I have a few people,” Peter conceded after a breath. “Not many, but...a few.” He fidgeted awkwardly with his hands. “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. You know who I am now, so…” he trailed off. 

“Mutually assured-”

“Destruction. Exactly.” Peter finished for him. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he said, just a bit quieter.

Matt’s own voice was soft when he said. “Your heart is pounding.” 

Peter whipped around, and decided then to take off his mask. It didn’t really matter anymore, anyways. “You can hear my heartbeat? Can you tell when people are lying?” 

“Yes.” Matt said, but then he groaned painfully, and brought a hand down to his side. 

Peter was on him in less than a second, bending down, and had his hands patting him down everywhere to check for damage. He quickly realized that his lower abdomen contusion was leaking blood, and he was close to bleeding through the bandage. Peter pulled it back, as Matt sucked on a wince, his breath stuttering in pain. Peter made a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat as he pulled the bandage completely off. 

The wound was too wide to stitch, but not wide enough to absolutely demand the hospital, so Peter carefully pressed it together, and attached butterfly bandages all down it to keep the skin together, and to hopefully staunch the worst of the bleeding. He re-wrapped it with a fresh bandage with gentle, steady hands.

When he was done and had cleaned up his supplies he only hesitated slightly before he reached up to Matt’s mask again. This time Matt didn’t stop him as he slowly pulled it off to reveal the face that had been haunting him since their meeting a few months prior. His eyes were half-lidded, probably from all the pain and exhaustion, but they remained unfocused all the same. 

It was then that Peter noticed the few scattered cuts around his cheek, going all the way up to his temple. Peter bit his lip before he brushed the pads of his fingers over his face. Matt shuddered, but Peter was pretty sure it wasn’t from pain this time. 

“Your heart’s beating really fast.” Matt said, his voice barely higher than a whisper.

Peter leaned forward and kissed him. He let it linger for a few moments, then he got up and brushed off his knees from the floor. “I’m still serious about your stitches. No moving, mkay?” 

Matt nodded as Peter willed the beating of his heart to calm the fuck down. So much for swearing off boys, right? 

❤️️

They holed up Peter’s apartment for the next two days learning everything about each other as Matt healed. They ate leftover Chinese food until Matt begged him to order pizza, or something different. They argued about which place had the best pizza until it was ended by them lazily making out on the couch. 

Matt told him about the men he was after, and how they were tearing his city apart. Peter listened intently, and offered information where he could. In return he told Matt about getting bit by the spider when he was fourteen and how it flipped his world upside down. He skipped over the blip, and fighting in space, Matt, probably from his heartbeat, could always tell when to back off, or when to keep pressing. 

As much as Peter was fascinated by Daredevil, he wanted to know more about Matt. Matt had laughed at that, then pressed a hand over his side. He had said in that tone that sent shivers up Peter’s spine, “Spider-Man’s pretty boring. I want to know more about Peter Parker.” 

❤️️

After their weekend alone, Matt never called him, or asked him out onto a date. 

Peter did his best to not focus on it, and to not allow himself to feel dejected. Matt was busy, and he should have never gotten his hopes up in the first place. 

He can admit that he did keep an ear out for anything going on in Hell’s Kitchen. It seemed like Hell had broken loose over in that side of town (no pun intended), and every day the news was more horrifying than the last. Matt was all over the place, and even though Peter was trying his best to be rational it still sucked that their paths hadn’t crossed. 

He had really thought that Matt was going to call him, but, he realized, he didn’t really know Matt, not really at all. 

❤️️

Peter spent two more weeks stressed, overworked, and completely dateless. Unless, you counted the date he had with his bathtub after a particularly nasty knife fight he got into on patrol one night. His healing factor had kicked in enough for him to go back to work the next day, but it did leave his bathroom looking like an OR. 

When he came back to his shared apartment with Ned his ears piqued and he could immediately identify that there was somebody in his apartment. Someone who wasn’t Ned. Peter went on high-alert, anticipating an attack, but he stopped short when he heard a pained groan. 

He hastily stepped into his apartment and closed the door behind him. There was a figure lying on their couch, and when he got closer he could identify it as Matt. His costume was ripped in several places and he was bleeding, quite a lot. 

“Oh my God,” Peter breathed out in a rush and dropped his keys onto the counter. He went over and kneeled by Matt on the couch. His hands hovered worriedly, and he was unsure of where to even begin. “What happened to you?” He asked, his voice hushed, but also incredulous. 

Matt made a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a pained hitch of breath. “You should see the other guy,” he managed, but it trailed off into a gurgle towards the end. 

“Okay,” Peter said shakily, going into crisis mode. “We need to get your suit off. Is there any clasp or zipper in the back?”

“Zipper,” Matt said, and went to raise his arm to point to it, but it only made him grunt. 

“Stop moving,” Peter instructed and instead started maneuvering Matt until his back was exposed. After a few tense seconds he eventually found the tiny zipper at the back of the neck and slid it down so that the suit could be peeled back. When he did peel it back, Peter sucked in a breath through his teeth. Matt was covered in various slash marks, and some were decently deep, especially one on his side. 

“Did they hit any organs?” Peter asked as he rolled up his sleeves. “Any leg injuries?” 

“There’s a stab wound on my thigh,” Matt gasped out, and Peter made a sympathetic noise. He slid the suit down even further, and did some complicated movements to get Matt’s suit down and off his legs completely, leaving him exposed, but also free for Peter to properly address his injuries. 

Matt was losing a good amount of blood, but nothing that should require a transfusion if Peter got his shit together and stitched them up fast enough. 

“No organs,” Matt bit out, squirming and arching his back a bit. Peter would give him something for the pain if he had anything. He was starting to question if maybe he should have gone into the nursing profession instead of Journalism. Sloppy field stitches were barely seeming to cut it. 

“Don’t you have a nurse friend?” Peter asked after he snagged his first aid kit and some towels. Once he had wiped away most of the excess blood he started working on the stitches, going with the biggest wound first. 

“Yeah but here was closer,” Matt admitted through heaved breaths. He winced as Peter started on the stitches, but then clenched his jaw and relaxed incrementally. 

Peter for the most part kept his mouth shut and tried to focus on his work, making sure that his hands remained steady. He was methodical, and precise, now wasn’t the time to have sloppy crooked stitches. When he finished he felt some pride in his work, knowing Nat would probably be proud too. 

Peter carefully folded up Matt’s suit and sat it on the floor. He had a brief notion of hosing it down, but he wasn’t quite sure what the material was and he didn’t want to risk any negative ramifications of it air-drying wrong. 

With tentative fingers, Peter reached up and started tugging off Matt’s mask. He didn’t fight him, and when his face was finally exposed Peter felt a swoop in his stomach. He had a few cuts and bruises on his face, framing his unfocused eyes. Even on the brink of death Matt was heartbreakingly handsome. 

“You should sleep it off,” Peter said softly, and brushed the back of his knuckles gingerly against Matt’s arm. 

As much as moving Matt off the couch daunted him, Peter knew that sleeping on it would only hurt his back and further aggravate his injuries. Tapping into some of his super-strength, he hoisted Matt up and slung one of his arms over his shoulder. He was mindful not to pull at any of Matt’s stitches, and was slow and languid with his movements, glacially reaching his bedroom. He laid Matt out on his bed, giving each one of his injuries another once over.

His thumb lingered over Matt’s jaw. He thought about kissing him again, and how his lips felt the first time. 

He leaned down without much conscious thought, but was halted by Matt turning his head, just enough to throw Peter off course. Peter pulled back immediately, stricken. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispered meekly. “I shouldn’t have…” He trailed off awkwardly, not sure how to finish that thread. He shifted away from Matt, fully prepared to go into the next room and beat himself up. Matt was injured, and vulnerable, and here Peter was, taking advantage of him because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 

“I really want you to,” Matt whispered back, softly. “But I just can’t right now.” 

“Oh,” Peter breathed. “Right. You’re hurt.” 

“No, it’s-” Matt grunted in pain as he reached for him. Peter hovered over him, closing their distance, and made sure to stop his movements. 

“It’s what?” He pressed gently.

“I have a lot going on right now and I can’t drag you into it.” Matt told him, sounding deeply serious. He also sounded heavy, like he was carrying the whole world on his shoulders. Peter knew what that felt like, and he also knew that arguing with him was going to be fruitless. 

“I can handle myself,” Peter replied, because he _could_ , and Matt should know that. He was _Spider-Man_ after all. 

“I think that’s my line,” Matt rumbled, and it made Peter smile despite himself. He could appreciate the sentiment, even if it was misguided. 

“You trying to protect me?” Peter asked. With anyone else it would have been teasing, but not with Matt. He was hopelessly endeared. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Peter bit his tongue to refrain from informing Matt that his job was quite literally _to_ get hurt. He figured if he could give Matt one thing to fall asleep it was peace of mind. 

“Okay,” Peter said simply, agreeing reluctantly. 

He did press a kiss to Matt’s forehead. It was quick, barely a peck, really, and Peter didn’t linger that time. “Okay,” He said again quietly, more to himself, and got up from the bed to let Matt rest.

❤️️

A month went by and Peter didn’t hear anything from Matt. He tried not to let himself be disappointed. Matt had been point blank with him, and it was something he was grateful for, but he could admit that he was also dejected. 

He kept an ear out for everything going on in Hell’s Kitchen. He watched Fisk give a press conference, and watched it on TV with the rest of his coworkers. Fisk didn’t sit right with him. Every word that came out of his mouth made Peter’s teeth hurt, and seemed to coat him with a slimy-ickiness. 

He mostly kept his head down, though. He focused on work, and kept up with the Spider-Man gig as best as he could. He had finally gotten into a groove with it, and didn’t feel as overwhelmed as he did when he was a teenager. He didn’t hold onto the responsibility of stopping every mugging or robbery anymore, and he could breathe easier. His city needed him, but he had long ago realized that his city didn’t need him to die for it to be saved. He wondered if Matt felt the same way. 

He found himself thinking about Matt a lot. And it really was a shame because the more he thought about him the more he realized that he didn’t really know much about him at all. 

He had stopped getting his hopes up that Matt was going to come back for him. Hell’s Kitchen proved to be a pretty demanding mistress, anyway. 

So, cue Peter’s astonishment when breaking news broke while he was at work. He watched the TV with rapt attention along with the rest of his coworkers, peering over the cubicle farm to get a good look. The news anchor’s hair was teased and shiny, about as shiny as her teeth as she smiled, breaking the story. 

Various pictures and mugshots overlaid the screen as she delightedly told the city that last night most of the major players in the Russian Mob in Hell’s Kitchen had been taken down. It was a combined effort between an undercover sting, and noted that it couldn’t have been done without the help and information provided by Daredevil.

She closed the broadcast with the assertion that New York could sleep easy that night, and it was all thanks to the hardworking servicemen of the NYPD, and Daredevil. 

Peter couldn’t help but press his lips into a tight line, holding back his smile as he stared down into the coffee mug on his desk. The whole time he tried very hard not to think about Matt. 

❤️️

It took awhile for him to get back to his apartment that night. He got caught up helping MJ with her latest story, and was perhaps way too willing to assist her in the tedious research her piece required. He knew she was suspicious when he put off going home for the third time. 

Eventually, even she headed home, and Peter was forced to go back to his apartment. It wasn’t that he was avoiding it, it was just easier to not think about certain things when he was at work. Every time he unlocked his front door he half-expected to find a bleeding Matt on his couch. Whenever it was empty he had to swallow back the bitter disappointed-relieved cocktail at him being alone. He couldn’t even whine about it to Ned, because he was always staying with Betty anymore. 

This time, however, once he climbed up the annoying amount of stairs it took him to reach his floor, since the elevator was permanently out of order, he stopped short when he saw someone waiting just outside his door. 

He blinked a few times, wondering if he was dreaming, or hallucinating. 

He blamed Pavlov for blurting out first, “Are you bleeding?” 

It only made Matt grin. 

He was in his civilian clothes, Peter noted. He had never seen Matt in a hoodie and jeans before, but he could admit that it was mouth-watering. 

“I’m not bleeding,” Matt said, as charming as ever, and Peter had to hold himself back from melting. 

Peter jingled his keys in his hand and felt a blush creeping onto his face. “Do you wanna, uh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you wanna come in?” He realized then that he had never invited Matt in before, he had always just stumbled in. Kind of like how he had stumbled into his life. Well, Peter had done the stumbling on their first encounter, but Peter didn’t have time to get hung up on metaphors. 

Matt followed him in dutifully after Peter unlocked his door, and then he closed it behind him. 

Whatever Peter had been expecting it wasn’t Matt kissing him and pressing him up against the door once it was shut. “Wait,” Peter said breathlessly, pulling away, even though he didn’t want to. “I thought-“ 

“Things are slowing down,” Matt drawled, only a puff of air away from Peter’s mouth. “I was hoping to cash in on that rain check?” 

Peter was sure that his grin had to be splitting his face. “Well, duh,” He said snakily, reeling Matt in by his collar. “You only had to take down the entire Russian Mob first.” 

This time, he didn’t protest at all when Matt kissed him.

❤️️

Their first date was to meet up at a coffee shop once Peter got out of a dumb meeting he had to attend because it seemed nobody could remember the meaning of _freelance_ photographer anymore. Sure he had moved up to the occasional article, but it wasn’t like he was getting benefits. It was three days after Matt had showed up at his door and kissed him until his lips were swollen, and he had to kick Matt out like a love-struck teenager. 

When he got to the coffee shop, Matt was already there, and he greeted him enthusiastically, tossing his messenger bag onto the floor as he took his seat. Matt smiled at him and all of Peter’s nervousness melted away, like it had never grown roots in the first place. 

Matt had an aura of well-contained calm when he wasn’t in the suit. When he was in the suit he was just as commanding, but with a cockier, sharper edge. When he was _Matt_ though, he kept it in check, and Peter was completely lulled by his soft voice and cheeky grin. The best part was that he was funny, _really_ funny, in a dry way that was completely different from Peter’s snark, but they paired well. Matt also had this way about him, where he never belittled Peter and always made sure to treat him like an equal. He was deeply respectful in a way that made Peter’s knees want to turn to jelly. 

When they finished their date. _Date!_ He wanted to scream like a teenage girl. He kissed Matt before he could change his mind or chicken out, and then bounded down the stairs of the subway station. He threw a quick “call me” over his shoulder. He could be cool. He was impressed by how cool he had been just then. Never mind that he couldn’t keep the smile off his face the whole ride home. 

It turned out Matt called him later that night. 

“Hi,” Peter answered the phone a little breathlessly. He had flung himself over to answer it as soon as he saw Matt’s name flash over the screen. It was kind of desperate, but whatever. 

“Hey,” Matt said in that deep timber of his that had Peter’s spine tingling already. 

“I’m really glad you called me,” Peter said sincerely, then closed his eyes. He was giving too much away, but it was hard to be anything but honest when he was still tipsy from the wine from dinner, and the beer he had drank when he got home. “I’ve been waiting.” 

“Well I’m calling now,” Matt told him. “I want to see you again. Are you doing anything Thursday?” 

Peter smiled. “Actually, I think my schedule just cleared up.” He snapped his laptop shut with a socked foot and sprawled out on the couch, tucking his phone into the crook of his neck. His hand rubbed his stomach, and then inched lower. He sighed as his hand slipped under his boxers. Matt was saying something in his ear but he wasn’t really processing it. He followed the waves of it as it played in his ear and started to touch himself. 

He was trying to be quiet, but he must have whined or made a noise to give himself away because suddenly Matt’s voice was in his ear, low and commanding. “Are you touching yourself?” 

“Yeah,” Peter gasped out, then froze almost comically. “Sorry-” he winced, “Unless you don’t want me to be.” 

“Oh I want you to be,” He chuckled darkly into Peter’s ear. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 

Beads of precum leaked from Peter’s cock at Matt’s words, and he preened from his approval, and from his praise. “Yeah?” Peter asked, all high-pitched and breathy. “You’re hot,” he swiped his thumb and suddenly everything was wetter, and hotter, and his hips bolted up on instinct. “Oh fuck-” 

“That’s really hot, baby,” Matt said, and Peter’s stomach clenched because it sounded like a warning. “But you don’t get to come. Not ‘til Thursday. Not ‘til I can get my hands on you.” 

Peter whined pathetically, and panted into the phone, wanting to get off so bad. “Okay, Matty,” He said when he took his hand away, even though he was rock hard and the waves of pleasure he had been riding on grounded to a halt abruptly. The nickname felt right falling out of his mouth. “I’ll be good,” he promised, already feeling his heart thunder. 

“I know you will.” 

❤️️

They fucked for the first time after they got tacos at a hole in the wall place in Hell’s Kitchen. It had been Matt’s suggestion, and Peter was enthused. They talked about work, and eventually made their way to stories from college. Peter was delighted to learn that Matt and Foggy had been roommates, and he could only imagine the hijinks they had gotten up to. Matt’s grin only furthered his theories, and he was sure he had endless stories to tell. 

When they finally got back to Peter’s apartment, Peter was jittery, and so incredibly turned on. He couldn’t stop thinking about Matt all throughout dinner. He had gotten caught up in his hands, and the fluidity of his movements. Matt was like a tall glass of water, and Peter was ready to jump his bones after what seemed like forever of his teasing. 

And Peter did jump him almost as soon as they got back to his apartment. 

Matt was immediately dominant and strong, making Peter completely desperate, without having to do much. He licked into Peter’s mouth like he owned it, pinning Peter’s wrists above his head. Peter was stronger than him, he could break his hold if he really wanted to, but God did he not want to. He’d never had anyone take what they wanted from him so easily before, and it was making his head spin. 

Matt said lowly, enough to send shivers up Peter's spine, “You’re not playing by the rules, baby. You gotta play by the rules.” 

Matt was so intuitive it was crazy, and it was one of the first things that Peter noticed when he put his hands on him. He knew what Peter wanted before he could even suss it out or communicate it himself. He knew when to be rough, when to pull back, and when to go harder. 

He opened Peter up slowly, just stretching him until Peter was close to sobbing and begging for his cock. He kissed the corner of Peter’s lashes, where the unshed tears that had just been forming threatened to spill. 

Peter’s head threw back, exposing his neck as soon as Matt pushed himself in. He took it slowly, grinding in small smooth circles until he was fully seated inside. When he started moving, he moved at a brain-melting steady place. It was just slow enough that Peter could feel every pound against his prostate but it wasn’t enough to throw him over the edge immediately. He got to lay in limbo as Matt fucked him. He fucked him for what felt like hours until Peter was dragging his nails across his back begging for him to go harder, faster, anything. 

Matt had complied easily. He whispered filth in Peter’s ear the entire time. He crooned about how perfect Peter was, how warm and tight. He fucked into him faster, somehow getting impossibly deeper. When he bit down on Peter’s neck Peter came so hard he saw stars, and gasped brokenly right into Matt’s ear. Matt followed soon after.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr, twitter, or discord @venomondenim


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